


Crawfish (A Hizzie Oneshot)

by orphan_account



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hizzie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Friends to lovers best friend oneshot where Hope takes Lizzie to Mardi Gras for the first time ever.





	Crawfish (A Hizzie Oneshot)

“Come on, Lizzie!” Giggled Hope from in front of Lizzie, dragging her by the hand around the sweaty bodies of dancers and singers and people laughing, drinking, spilling their alcohol all over Lizzie. 

“Why did I agree to come to this horrible place?” Lizzie complained, crossing her arms over her chest once Hope let go and stood in front of some Mardi Gras themed food stand. 

“What do you want to eat?” Hope asked over her shoulder at her friend, who mumbled under her breath that she didn’t care, and that she wasn’t one to eat street food. 

“This is awful.” Complained Lizzie, looking around at the crowd as they moved to the loud horn music. 

“C’mon, we’ve only been here for five minutes. You’ll change your mind by the end of the night.” Hope promised, soft blue eyes lit into an electric silver, the excitement of her surroundings emanating from her body as she awaited the food vendor to give her the red and white cardboard tray. “Want some?” She offered. 

“What is that?” Lizzie grimaced. 

“Crawfish.” She shrugged. 

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, Lizzie, you promised you’d try and have fun.” She pouted to her friend, knowing what those eyes did to her, knowing the effect that little lip had on Lizzie. 

“Fine…” Lizzie groaned reluctantly, holding her hand out for Hope to hand her one of the fish. 

She swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat before following Hope’s lead, wrapping her lips around the shell and sucking in, tasting the cajun spices on her tongue as she chewed the finsh. 

It was good. 

Really good. 

“Give me that.” Lizzie demanded with narrowed eyes, taking Hope’s tray and taking another crawfish from it. 

“See?” Giggled Hope. “You just have to think about you instead of your surroundings. Let the music move you, let the culture move you.” She advised before taking the finished tray of crawfish and tossing it in a trash bin. “Come on.” She requested excitedly, taking Lizzie’s hand and dragging her into the crow again. Lizzie listened to the music and just revelled in the excitement that Hope was so obviously experiencing. 

When they stopped, Hope was in the middle of the street, holding her hand amongst a group of couples dancing together. 

“Dance with me.” She requested, and Lizzie rolled her eyes before taking Hope’s other hand to dance along with the blaring horns and pounding drums. Their hips swayed in time with the beautiful music, along with loads of other people as they laughed and sang and danced with their friends and loves. People in costumes danced by and put beads over Lizzie’s neck, as well as Hope’s as they moved together, Hope’s hands clutching Lizzie’s jacket as though letting go would mean losing her. 

This is what caught Lizzie’s attention. 

That, and the fact that her heart is pounding against her rib cage at the closeness she was feeling with her best friend. 

Suddenly, Lizzie’s mind was stuck. 

Suddenly, all sound faded into white noise, and all she could hear was Hope’s laugh. 

Oh, Hope’s laugh.

How Hope’s eyes close, and her smile takes up her entire breathtaking visage, and how her laugh falls so organically, like a noise of nature. Something that should’ve always existed. Something that affected the way Lizzie lived and breathed. 

Sure, this was Lizzie’s best friend, and it was natural to feel admiration for a best friend. 

It was natural for Lizzie to feel admiration for Hope. 

The only difference is that Lizzie’s natural admiration for hope was not that of a best friend, and she knew that. 

Lizzie’s natural admiration stems from Hope. The way she inspires Lizzie to try new things, the way she gives Lizzie the strength to depend on herself, and to love herself. The way she loves Lizzie, despite having seen the inside of Lizzie’s messy world full of loss and brokenness and ugliness. Lizzie admired Hope because of Hope’s infectious love for people, and the innate tendency to put others needs before her own.

“What do you think so far?” Asked Hope suddenly, catching Lizzie before she plummeted too far into a long-winded and incredibly unhealthy spiral of internal criticism and self loathing mindset. 

“Of what?” Lizzie blinked in confusion, and her best friend giggled up at her. 

“Mardi gras, silly.” 

“Oh,” Lizzie giggled nervously, “I think that you promised me dessert if I came here today.” 

“Come on,” Hope glared playfully, taking her best friend’s hand, “your breath smells like crawfish anyway.” 

Lizzie allowed Hope to drag her around as she pleased, laughing and running around between people who danced and ate and sang and laughed and had a merry old time, embracing a beautiful culture that Lizzie had never been able to experience first hand. 

Lizzie would never admit it to Hope, but it was… a surreal experience. 

She was mesmerized by the lights, and the beautiful horns blaring down the street as people in costumes danced and sang with pride and passion. 

Maybe she just needed to see the world through Hope’s eyes. 

The way Lizzie knew Hope, the way Lizzie loved Hope, how could she not?

How could she not find the most joy out of drag queens dancing down the crowded streets, letting the world know who they are, unapologetically themselves?

How could she not find delight in the children running after each other in the grass across the street?

How could she not be enticed by the smell of… whatever a beg net was..?

She couldn’t help but be enticed! 

She smelled the warm desert, immediately anticipating the taste before she even opened her mouth to take a bite. 

Lizzie didn’t know what to say. 

What could she say?

How could she even begin to explain the goodness that was, the… 

Beige net.

Ben-gay. 

Ben-yay. 

Beignet. 

Whatever it was, it was delicious.

“You have sugar on your nose.” Hope grinned over the music before reaching up and dusting the sugary crystals from the ball of her nose with her thumb. Lizzie paid no attention to the butterflies dancing around inside her stomach, simply discrediting it to the music booming against her skin was making her feel things that weren’t there. 

“You’re a lot more chipper than usual.” Lizzie pointed out to her friend, something she could never complain for, but definitely something to note. 

Lizzie would do anything to see her so happy.

“I grew up on these streets.” Hope grinned as she and her best friend began to walk on. She ripped apart her own beignet to tuck into before skipping ahead. “I remember being really little, walking these same streets with my mom, and later with my aunts made me feel… normal for once.” she exhaled with a grin, and Lizzie’s face fell.

“You’re normal to me.” Lizzie tried, but Hope scoffed. 

“Please, you wouldn't love me so much if I was normal.”

That was a fair assessment. 

“Then… what’s the problem?” Lizzie shrugged in confusion as the two bobbed and weaved between the sweating bodies around them. 

“I just… it was nice to feel like a part of a family, you know?” Hope asked, suddenly, her tone less chipper, more unsure of herself. 

“You’re a part of our family.” Lizzie tried again, and Hope smiled before opening her arms to take Lizzie within, embracing her companion in appreciation for her words. 

“You’re sweet.” She mumbled in Lizzie’s ears as the blonde took in the moment, breathing in Hope’s scent, memorizing the way this hug felt, taking this moment into her long-term memory. 

“But it’s different with you.” 

It was almost inaudible to Lizzie, and it had a tone of sadness surrounding, throwing the blonde off. 

“What’s wrong?” Lizzie asked with worry once Hope pulled away a second later. 

“Do you wanna go back home?” Hope asked suddenly, her tone low and melancholy. 

“What?” Lizzie gawked, dumbfounded, “Hope, you’ve been waiting to do this for months, we just got here an hour ago.” She reminded, and Hope shrugged indifferently. 

“I’m just tired now.” She tried, and Lizzie felt stung. 

Like she was missing out on something. 

Sure, she was missing out on the chance to see Hope move her hips again. 

She was missing out on Hope’s unmatched smile. 

She was missing out on Hope. 

She couldn’t go back now, 

“Dance with me first.” Lizzie blurted suddenly, stopping Hope from walking away. 

“We just danced, Lizzie.” She complained, and Lizzie pouted, as she always did so expertly. 

“Please..???” Trailed the taller of the two, making Hope scoff before developing a small, soft smile. 

“Fine.” She grumbled, and Lizzie cheered before beginning her long strides toward a group of people dancing around in the grass three buildings down. Lizzie stopped in the middle of the dancing crowd and pulled Hope close to her, moving her hips and arms in time to the music that began to change into another song, to Lizzie and Hope’s comedic delight. 

“Thank you.” Lizzie mumbled over the music, surprised to learn that Hope heard her. 

“For what?” She giggled softly, that being the only sound Lizzie could hear, once again. 

“Sharing this with me.” Lizzie added, “I’m really happy you trust me like this.” She admitted, something she was never good at. 

“Of course I trust you.” She winked happily before hanging from Lizzie’s neck as she danced out of rhythm with the fast music.

Lizzie could feel that. 

The world coming to a complete stop around them, sound fading, nobody around but Lizzie and her beloved. 

She could do it now. 

What she’s wanted to do all along. 

Take her face and mush her lips against Hope’s. 

It sounded less solicited the more she thought about it. 

She immediately retracted that thought.

Consent is sexy. 

So what? 

‘Hope, I’m in love with you, and I want you to shove your tongue down my throat.’ 

That sounds… also on the wrong side of the #MeToo movement, actually. 

Good God. 

If Hope ever had any feelings for Lizzie, the blonde expected that they would be the most prominent now, since Lizzie made an extra long effort to look her best before coming to this thing. 

It was now or never. 

“Hope,” Lizzie spoke up, but as soon as the word left her lips and Hope’s eyes were on her, Lizzie panicked. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to lose her best friend. She wasn’t ready for rejection. “I…” 

It’s not too late, Lizzie. 

You can still say it. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

God, it was so easy for Lizzie to say it to herself. 

I love you. 

I love Hope Mikaelson. 

I love you, Hope Mikaelson. 

I love you

I love you

“I love you.”

Lizzie froze. 

Oh God, Lizzie thought, say something! 

“I love you too!” Hope grinned, her eyes holding a hint of something else. 

God Damn it, Hope. Fuck you and your platonic closeness with me as your platonic friend, platonically. 

I’m in love with you, Hope. 

Say it. 

Say it!

I’m in love with you, Hope.

Now for real.

Nnnnnow….

I’m in love with you, Hope. 

Oh, how about now!

“I’m in love with you, Lizzie.” 

No, Lizzie, you-

“Lizzie?”

“Huh?” Lizzie’s eyes snapped up to meet with a nervous Hope, who looked up into Lizzie’s eyes deeply. 

“I-I’m in love with you, Lizzie.” She mumbled, and Lizzie couldn’t believe her ears. 

“Y-you are?” She stammered in disbelief, and Hope nodded uncomfortably. 

“W-what do you think?” She asked nervously, hands behind her back as she awaited for Lizzie’s response. 

“I think that you should kiss me.” Lizzie whispered, her tone blissful, as this was too good to be true. 

Hope’s eyes turned upward, and suddenly, Hope was in Lizzie’s arms, hands pulling her face down by her cheeks until Hope was at eye level with Lizzie. It was one soft kiss between the two, Lizzie’s lips closing over Hope’s, just enough for Lizzie to lose her breath due to her own nerves. Hope dropped her forehead against Lizzie’s, letting the tension in their hearts build up as Hope hovers there, lips grazing Lizzie’s breath. 

“Lizzie.” She whispered, and the blonde looked up, ready to hang onto every word Hope was about to say. 

“Yes, Hope?” Lizzie asked, anticipating another beautiful moment to add to the memory she’d call back to while telling her and Hope’s grandkids of when they first found each other at last. 

“Your breath still smells like crawfish.”


End file.
